Void
by AL158
Summary: A story of the a boy who hurts and the girl who tries to heal herself. She was abandoned, left alone to face the world that seems to be against her. He is the lost boy, broken in his guilt and self-sympathy. A story of two broken persons who tried to overcome their pain together. Chapter 1: Drown.


Void: Drown

Chapter One

Her name is Rukia – Ukitake Rukia. But people call her just by Rukia, no one acknowledge that she has a last name because people assuming the name is far too good to be used the liking of her. You see, living in a town where parochial minded still exist; her life is not made to be easy. She was left at the doorstep of Ukitake family when she was only a newborn and for that people just simply cannot digested the fact Ukitake Jushiro decided to adopt her and name her as his daughter. Began from the talks of the adults, followed by the kids, her life was anything but rainbows – bullied at school, received occasional snide comments from old prune teachers and neighbours.

I always saw her as I drove by her house on my way to school. She always smiled and that smile of hers is so genuine, so sincere, as if the world not trying to break her down. I occasionally would stop nearby her house, far enough for me to watch her. Call me a stalker if you want but you see, my heart would ache if I do not see her smile for a day, ever since the first time that I saw her smile, I kind of addicted to it – that joyous look on her face, that twinkle in her eyes. If I was allowed to be greedy, I want to own her, to be able to see her every expression, not just joy. But I am not allowed to – I can't afford to be one now.

* * *

My name is Kurosaki Ichigo. My father told me that my name meant the one that protect – I guess I do not live up to that name at all. In our school, popularity means power, the popular you are, the higher the influence you had on others – the one I sadly did not used wisely. Now, I am not the most sought after male in my school, but am I am not at bottom of barrel either. To me, that wicked system that we have at our school, makes her life a living hell and mine into now empty shell. Bully and abuse is a 'secret' daily occasion at our school, the unpopular ones are victims and source of entertainment for some twisted minded kids - I guess one of them is me.

Everyone has their own favourites – she is mine. No matter what people thrown at her, she never retaliated, she never does anything and that amused me – but sometimes she smile. Not the smile that I would yearn to see everyday but that cold and empty smile that would send chill down my spine. She always went home battered, I of course, never laid my hands on her – even so, I think I am the worse of all. I watched as she suffered never offered a hand to help and sometimes joined into the taunting and the laughing. Every time that I was there, watching she being bullied by others, she would lift her head just high enough for me to see her eyes – dulled as if they were dead and if our eyes met, she smiled a little and that made me despise her more.

I hate alcohol. I wondered why people drink such beverages; somehow I think this stuff is not meant to be drunk. Losing control or your own body is not something I would like to enjoy. But, there always be a time of exception – a time when I would begrudgingly chugged down this vile liquid just to pass through the day and that that time is now. I watched my surrounding time to time, observed my friends as they got their arses wasted and lost inside their own world and waiting for my time to be dismissed from this poor excuse of a party – why did I agree to be in this party anyway? The drink started to enter my system; I decided to go back by my own. But that was a bad – very bad decision. The next time, when you get yourself drunk, never ever go back home alone, it is dangerous.

I do not remember much of what happened to me after I walked out from the party, the only thing that I know was I was pushed from behind and drowning. I struggled to get to the surface but no matter what I do, it was futile. No matter how much I flailed my arms or kicked my legs – I kept getting deeper as if there was a whirlpool sucking me in. But then I was saved, there was a pair of pale arms reached out for me and pulled me out.

"—hold on!"

I heard a voice.

"—hey, stay with me!"

My world was fading away but saw them – a glimpse of pair amethyst eyes.

* * *

I woke up and found myself hurting all over my body but at least I live. I looked around and it is appeared to me that I am on a hospital bed – somehow I was saved. I expected that much nut what I did not expected was her, sitting next to me bed. Her head hang low and her eyes set on a magazine on her lap, flipping it page to page. I stared at her and continue doing so for very long minutes. I wanted to say something to her, to ask her something but I can't move my mouth to say anything. I continued to stare to a point she can't stand it anymore.

"What?" simple and empty.

I could not answer and then she let out a huge sigh "Look, I will go as soon as your family arrive, till then just bear with me. I hate to be here as much as you do." I winced a bit, I wondered about that, did she mean she just hates to be with me or she just hates to be in a hospital? How many times did she go here to tend her wounds and bruises – I swallowed down the lump in my throat.

"If you want me to go away so damn much, the say it, don't just stare at me like I'm a germ." She barked out as she stood out but before she could grab her coat from the edge of my bed, I unconsciously grabbed her hand. I stared at her as her turned to me with a surprise look but then to a smile. Those eyes – were the same as the ones that I see before I passed out!

"You—"

"Oh why Kurosaki-san, are you afraid of being alone in a hospital?" She chuckled. She pulled out her hand and paced a few feet away from me. "Oh... so now at least you know how it feels like to be in own of these rooms, battered and alone. Do you know just how many times some kids need to come here to tend to their injuries? Some of them get it from playing too rough, sport and stuff... Some get it from being... bullied"

My heart dropped, my hand trembled and I turned my eyes away from her. I know what exactly she indicated that to. At that time, when those words of hers sink in to my brain, my breath sucked out from my chest – as if I was drowning all over again. The very idea that she could probably has been here before in this very room, suffocated me – straggled me with guilt.

"T – Then why did you save me?" I said, my voice came out a little hoarse. She looked at me impassively.

"I don't know... I just don't find seeing people suffer to be amusing, I guess..." she answered me with a sarcastic smile to end at the note.

I blinked at her, my mouth agape – again I was loss of word to say. She does not find my suffering to be amusing, probably she does but not to the point that I deserve to be dead. Am I really not deserved to die? Am I deserved to save by her? My fingers trembled – aching to stop her again when I realised that she walked away towards the door. I want to call out her name but my tongue was tied. I had never called out her name before and now, I probably do not deserved to call her – the person who lets and makes her life suffer everyday without guilt before.

My chest felt heavy and every breath I took in does not elevate the suffocation that I have.

Please...

Tell me what to do now...

* * *

There were times she thought of ending her own unwanted life. But no matter what how much pain she was in, no matter how strong her will to do just that – she could not do it. She would step down from the roof that she planned to jump off from and dropped the knife before it got deep enough to kill her. Every attempt she tried would leave a new bruise, scars, and lines on her body and then she would cry her soul out, hoping for something to stop the pain and negative thoughts – hoping for her demons to go away.

She was found on the doorstep by a kind married couple, left wrapped in blanket – the only thing that belong to her was her name stitched nicely in white. The couple took her in and raised her up – gave her name that no one would acknowledge but she was happy. Happy enough until it hits the fifth years of her life – the wife died. Left her and her husband in the cruel world and people started to talk.

The husband, her father tried his best to love her and cares for her. It was good and they able to cope with life even if they were only two of them. Eight years after the death of the wife, her father contracted a disease that no one can explain and after that her life went down hill. People talked as if she was the one who brought the omen to Ukitake's family, claimed their life was better before she came into the picture and would still be it if she was never there. School that was once a bearable place became hell and friends that she had became foe – when she was at mere age of 13 years old the world decided to against her.

"What are you smiling at?" one of them would ask – group of stupid bunch of kids who think they are so above the others in school. She would look down after that, hoping that they would be faster and left her alone after that. They would throw stuff at her, pushed her down, and sometimes slammed her to the wall and said mean things about her or her father. She got used to it, after years of the same routine, who would not to? But there were time that he would be there, watching her as his friends harassed her and sometime he would join in to – enjoying the show as if no one was harmed. When their eyes met, she would stare at them and at times, she would flash him smiles. She liked it – he would look at her as if she was insane, his arms would be crossed on his chest and he would look away.

It was as if she had some effect on him.

But today, the expression of guilt riding person on his face is her favourite. She loved the wide eyes of surprise when he saw her, the small tremors of his fingers when he grabbed her hand and the trembling lips as if he tried to speak but could not to. She said the words she knew would make him felt worse. She want him to at least suffer a bit but all and all – the reason she waited there when he grabbed her hand was for him to say thanks or anything, probably apology for being one of the people that make her life in hell. She waited – but only silence filled the room.

Decided that she has spent enough time being there with him – she walked away, leave the room. Maybe it would be better if she just leave him to die – making her life suffer, she saved his frigging ass but yet she just got silence in return. A jerk would always remain as a jerk, she scoffed.

As soon as she came out from the room, she was bombarded by his probably family. After couple of thanks and handshakes, she politely walked away. Kurosaki Ichigo is a jerk, a bully and a jerk – the fact that Rukia labelled him twice as jerk indicated how much jerk he is to her. But a jerk like him have a family like that – a family who would run for him as soon as the hospital called for them, a family who would be worried sick for him and a family who would bow down in gratitude for him. He is a lucky jerk. Rukia put her hand on her chest – she does not like seeing a sight like that, she hated it. It reminded her of what she had lost and what she yearned the most. It opened a hole in her heart – she need to go, she need to run.

Please... can somebody help her?

Please...

Fear...

She feared that she could not hold it any longer, she feared that she would jump off the roof or slit her throat open and left her father all alone.

Please...

Somebody... stop this feeling that about to overwhelm her.

She is tired.

* * *

 **Hello,**

 **This is my first upload in 2016 after years of hiatus.**

 **My name was elin-usamichan95 and as you can see, I changed it already and all my previous works have been deleted.**

 **I decided to start on a clean slate (Is that correct?)**

 **So please leave a review and we will see on the next chapter.**

 **If there are mistakes or any room of improvement, please leave it on the review or PM me**


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